


Prayer In C

by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Time Travel Fix-It, redemption fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 18:03:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erava/pseuds/IncompleteSentanc
Summary: “Rufus Shinra died knowing he had a lot to repent for. He died wishing he had some way to fix what he’d done, to the world and to the people that live on it. Now he almost wishes no one had ever given him the chance.But he has a man there who’s almost too happy to remind him of everything he’s trying to fix - and a woman to advise him every step of the way. The path to redemption may be painful, but in the end, it’s worthwhile.”





	Prayer In C

**Author's Note:**

> Prayer in C - Lilly Wood & The Prick  
> “Yeah, our hands will get more wrinkled,  
> And our hair will be grey,  
> Don’t think I could forgive you.  
> And see the children are starving,  
> And their houses were destroyed,  
> Don’t think they could forgive you.”

Rufus Shinra was once a proud, selfish, and cruel man. One of those things would never change, but recent times have taught him many life lessons - ones he wishes he’d never had to learn the way he has, but ones that he’s also glad to  _ have _ learned.

He still has his pride, but it’s safe to say that the Geostigma running rampant through his body had very firmly knocked that pride to the floor. His mistakes and the suffering he has watched others endure for it, and has endured himself, have also thoroughly quashed his cruelty. It is, of course, rather difficult to stay so uncaring of others’ suffering when experiencing it himself. 

No, Rufus Shinra is no longer cruel, nor is he as prideful as he once was. He is still rather selfish - entirely too much so - but it’s a calculating selfishness now. He takes what he wants, but he no longer does it without careful consideration and relatively gentle handling of those affected by his actions.

Which is why he’s filled with regret and bitter anger as he sits in a half-built skyscraper. One of his own funding, albeit unknown to the public. Kadaj, lightly rolling the Summon Materia in his hands as he stares up at the Bahamut in the sky - and Rufus, staring down at the bodies that line the streets around the Meteor Monument. The monument  _ he _ had designed and paid for. That, he’d done in a fit of selfishness - he was the one funding the building of Edge, after all, Shinra should have  _ some _ claim to it; and the monument had provided that. 

And now, the only mark Shinra had left in Edge, was destroyed and surrounded by the corpses of the people who had once been his responsibility. 

_ How very badly I’ve failed at that, _ he muses as he stares down at them. He has failed, Rufus has grown to realize, at a great many things. 

But there is one thing, he decides, he won’t fail at.

_ Death _ , Rufus thinks,  _ is really rather simple _ .

It starts with a fall. It starts with him, captive and nearly -  _ nearly but not quite _ \- helpless at the hands of a crazed Remnant of Sephiroth. It starts with him seeing Bahamut flying high overhead, charging a blow that would quite possibly level the city he’d been doing so much to rebuild. It starts with him watching Kadaj’s glowing hand, still focused on the beast. With him thinking,  _ this.  _ **_This_ ** _ is something I can fix. _

It starts with him throwing off the sheet that hid his strength, waving Jenova’s remains at Kadaj’s face, and watching the rage blossom. He knows that this is it - that this is his death - but he can’t help but smirk when it works as planned. Kadaj’s rage is a potent, untameable, and unpredictable thing - but Rufus has always been good at predicting the unpredictable. 

The Materia controlling Bahamut cuts off, and Kadaj attempts to launch a Firaga at Rufus’ face.

Instead, Rufus leaps, and he falls.

Death, he muses as he watches the pavement move closer and closer, regretful of the Turks below who will have to watch him strike the ground, is really rather simple.

Repentance, on the other hand, is not.

And Rufus really ought to have known that.

 

* * *

 

There’s no net to save his life. No sudden emergence of his missing Turks, just in time to save his life. For all Rufus knows, they aren’t even alive - though he genuinely hopes that they are. 

Many times, Rufus was called a cold-hearted, uncaring bastard. Many times, they were right to call him so. But time - and Geostigma - had changed him.

There’s no Turk to save him from his fall. Only a glimpse of the sky above him, view marred by Kadaj diving past to snatch Jenova’s remains from the sky. And then, for Rufus, there’s only concrete.

But repentance isn’t simple. Not for someone like Rufus - not for any Shinra doomed to carry his father’s legacy. Not for one who had only carried it further. Repentance isn’t simple for Rufus, and it isn’t as easy a thing as interrupting Kadaj’s spell - as breaking his concentration and severing the power fueling the Summons and hoping beyond hope that someone  _ (Cloud) _ is there to stop the beast itself.

Nor is it as easy a thing as self-sacrifice. 

Rufus’ body hits the concrete and he feels nothing after that - until he does.

He feels like he’s floating, his mind drifting further than his body - but not so far that he doesn’t feel the hand touching his forehead, or hear the whispers around him.

_ “I don’t like this. I don’t trust him.” _ A male’s voice says, low and quiet, and a woman hums softly.

_ “I think he’s learned. I think he’s learned a lot - haven’t you?” _ She asks softly, fingers threading through his hair - but the noises and sensations are so distant he can’t even consider responding.

_ “Maybe enough. I guess it’s better than putting… than putting  _ **_him_ ** _ through this again, at least.”  _ The male murmurs and the woman hums again.

_ “Hopefully. Besides. We’ll be there if he ever needs a little push, remember?”  _ She points out lightly, words followed by a hand gripping Rufus’, gentle and soft.  _ “Just don’t forget. We have a lot to fix.” _

_ “No kidding.” _ The male snorts.

The hand on his squeezes gently, fingertips brushing against his hairline. 

The hands vanish, taking the floating sensation with it. 

And then he feels the pain.

It rushes through him like a tide, taking his breath away - literally. He coughs and can’t quite manage to get the air moving, choking on fluid that he’s long since gotten used to the taste of.

_ Even in death, Geostigma haunts me? _ He wonders as he chokes and chokes, until hands grab at him and he’s shifted to his side.

Two hard slaps against his back - Reno’s favorite maneuver when he has an episode like this - has him coughing up the toxic fluid.

He opens his eyes.

It’s not Reno standing in front of him. It’s not a street that he’s lying on, somehow surviving the fall.

He’s in bed, and it’s  _ Veld _ hovering over him. A face he hasn’t seen in  _ years. _

“What’s wrong with him?!” An all too familiar voice booms through the static roaring in his oxygen deprived ears.

Veld glances to the side, and Rufus’ gaze reluctantly follows.

_ This is hell,  _ he determines.

 

The last thing he remembers thinking is that even for hell, it was a bit much to inflict him with both Geostigma  _ and _ his father.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is obviously a time-travel fix-it. I know the characters of choice (Rufus) aren't particularly popular, but I hope you give me a chance to write him into something good! I hope you enjoy ♥


End file.
